Should be a piece of cake, hopefully
by hardly loquacious
Summary: Remind me again why we're doing this?" Lisbon muttered, settling back down in her current position.  "Well, the mistletoe in the break room for a start," Jane reminded her.


Yet another J/L Holiday prompt fic. This one is for HypeerbOosttxOx and the prompt is J/L 'Should be a piece of cake, hopefully.'

xxx

"Should be a piece of cake, hopefully."

xxx

Her tone was dark. "This had better work," she growled.

His was placating. "It will," he assured her.

She didn't believe him. "I mean it..."

He sighed. "So do I."

She shook her head. "You say that _now_, but..."

That was the final straw for him. "Hush, woman. When have I ever steered you wrong before?"

Lisbon glared at him. "Seriously?"

Jane looked insulted. "Look, I know I've caused the odd problem..."

"The _odd_ problem?" Lisbon repeated, feeling a sudden, almost inexplicable urge to laugh.

"Maybe the odd minor disaster..." Jane continued.

"_Minor_," she scoffed.

"But I always fix things in the end," he insisted, raising his voice.

"Things that wouldn't have been broken in the first place if it wasn't for you," Lisbon retorted.

"What happened to '_You__ catch __a __lot__ of __bad__ guys,__ Jane?_'" the consultant wondered. "I miss that."

"That was before I agreed to this idiot plan of yours, when really what I should have done was go home and watch Christmas specials like I wanted to," Lisbon groused.

Jane sighed. Things were taking longer than he'd anticipated, and now Lisbon was hungry. And when Lisbon was hungry, Lisbon was cranky. "I'll buy you ice cream when we're done," he promised her.

"Hmph."

Her reaction wasn't exactly encouraging, but Jane thought he saw a glimmer of interest in her eye, and so pressed his advantage. "_Chocolate_ ice cream," he promised her. "With chocolate sauce."

Lisbon definitely looked interested now. "Fine," she huffed after a moment. "This has taken long enough already, may as well see it through. But it had better work."

Jane waved away that concern. "Should be a piece of cake," Jane said airly, before adding "Hopefully," under his breath.

Unfortunately, Lisbon heard him. "_What?_" she hissed, nearly standing up in her annoyance.

Jane pulled her back down in the nick of time. "Lisbon!" he reprimanded. "If you give us away now the last twenty minutes will have been for nothing."

She sighed. "We wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Nope," Jane agreed cheerfully.

"Remind me again why we're doing this?" Lisbon muttered, settling back down in her current position.

"Well, the mistletoe in the break room for a start," Jane reminded her. "I'd have thought you'd want payback for that, especially since Van Pelt decided to point it out right when Wainwright was trying to get your signature on the Johnson file. Even if you did manage to look the less awkward of the two of you."

"Alright!" Lisbon said quickly, obviously not wanting to dwell on the incident. "You've made your point!"

Jane looked contemplative, "You know, it's been a while since I've seen a man blush that red. If I didn't know better, Lisbon, I'd say our new boss is developing a bit of a crush..."

"I said _alright!__" _Lisbon snapped.

Jane grinned. "So you've noticed it too, then? I wondered. You were being so blasé about it all. Really the best strategy of course, Lisbon. Well done. I sometimes forget how convincing an actress you can be, when you put your mind to it. Very well done indeed. You almost had me fooled."

"We're not talking about this," Lisbon told him.

Jane decided to take pity on her. "As you like, dear. I was just reminding you of the need for payback, for the mistletoe incident."

Lisbon nodded. "Fine," she said. Then something struck her. "Wait a minute, why are you here then?"

"I'm sorry?" Jane asked in confusion.

"I understand why I would theoretically want payback, but what about you? I didn't hear anything about you having any kind of mistletoe mishaps," Lisbon explained.

"I didn't," Jane confirmed.

"So?" Lisbon prompted.

Jane furrowed his brow briefly, not quite understanding the question. "I'm helping you, of course."

"Really?" Lisbon asked.

Jane frowned, slightly annoyed by her tone. "Yes," he told her. Of course he was helping her. As soon as Wainwright had accidentally met her under the mistletoe, revenge had seemed like the obvious course of action for Jane. He needed to... defend her honour, or something.

Lisbon bit her lip briefly. "Y'know, that's oddly sweet, Jane."

He shrugged, awkwardly trying to avoid meeting her eyes. "Yeah well, it's also fun."

"I know I always enjoy crouching behind a snow bank for almost half an hour," Lisbon muttered.

"So I got the times wrong," Jane groused. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay," Lisbon conceded after a moment. "My coat is pretty warm, and I'm pretty sure frostbite hasn't set in yet. Although maybe we should change that ice cream to hot chocolate."

"Whatever you want," Jane murmured absently.

"You're _sure_ this is going to work?" Lisbon asked again.

"Yes," Jane assured her, slightly exasperated (but also a little amused).

"They won't know what hit them?" Lisbon double-checked.

Jane shook his head. "Oh, no. I'd imagine they will. That's the point though, isn't it? It's not much fun if our retribution doesn't even register."

Lisbon chuckled. "It always frightens me a little when you start making an odd kind of sense."

Jane smiled. "How do you think I feel?"

"I'm sure I don't want to know," she said dryly.

"Shh," he said suddenly, I think I hear something.

"You're _sure_ this will work..." Lisbon hissed one last time.

Jane waved a hand at her to signal that she should be quiet.

And with good reason.

Rigsby and Cho were finally leaving the arena.

"Game must have gone into overtime or something," Lisbon murmured.

Jane nodded his head in agreement, before gesturing her to pay attention to their colleagues.

"We played a good game," Rigsby was saying to Cho.

"Sure," Cho agreed. "Although I was afraid I threw my back out again when Johnson checked me into the boards."

Rigsby looked concerned. "Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked for what felt like the hundredth time. "I mean, it's only an intramural hockey team. No one's going to care if you quit."

"I'm fine," Cho insisted.

Rigsby just shrugged. "Alright. You know best. Come on, I'll drive you back to the CBI." He walked over to the driver's side of his SUV and tried to open the door. "That's weird," he said after a moment.

"What's weird?" Cho asked, pausing in front of the SUV.

"Door's frozen shut," Rigsby told him. Then he tried the back door. "Both doors actually."

"Why's that weird?" Cho asked. "It's below freezing our here."

"Yeah, but it didn't rain," Rigsby reminded him. "Where'd the water come from?"

Lisbon snickered into her mitten. In the bushes. Jane couldn't resist a grin of his own.

Cho just shrugged. "Who cares? Let's just try the passenger side door."

Rigsby stared at his door for a moment in confusion, before conceding the point. "Yeah," he said after a moment, before walking over to join his partner on the passenger side, to try that door.

That was when he hit Jane's trip wire.

And both agents were absolutely covered in cold, wet, snow from the tree above.

"What the hell?" Rigsby yelled.

"We've been had," Cho told him.

"What do you mean?" Rigsby wondered.

Cho resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was too busy getting the snow out of them anyway. "There was way too much snow up there to be natural. And someone's obviously made it wet, and recently. Hence, we've been had."

"By whom?" Rigsby demanded.

"Who do you think?" Cho asked sarcastically.

"Why then?" Rigsby wondered, realizing the answer was obvious.

"How the hell should I know?" Cho asked. "It's not like he'll ever tell us. You better hope this is the end of it, because I am not getting into a prank war with _Jane.__"_

Rigsby paused from trying to brush the snow out from around his collar, looking frightened at the mere thought.

"Just get in the car so we don't freeze," Cho advised him. "If the passenger side door even opens."

But it did open, Jane not having wanted to give either agent hypothermia. (Besides, Lisbon vetoed it anyway).

The two pranksters watched their colleagues drive away in what they could only assume was a very wet SUV. Lisbon tried to stifle her giggles, but failed miserably.

"Feel better, dear?" Jane asked her.

"Maybe a little," she admitted. "It was childish though."

"That's why it's fun," he assured her. "They'll be fine."

Lisbon laughed. "I hope so."

Jane turned towards her, all smiles. "I told you it would work."

"You said you _hoped_ it would work," Lisbon reminded him.

Jane shrugged. "Well, I was becoming concerned that the snow in the tree might have turned to solid ice given the dropping temperature since the game ran long, even if we did put it up there much later than we sprayed the doors."

Lisbon sighed. "Oh god, I didn't even think of that. I could have concussed my agents."

Jane shook his head. "I don't think so," he assured her. "Temperature's too close to the freezing mark. It's why I put something between the electronic connections of the door on Rigsby's SUV to ensure that it didn't open. I'm not sure it's cold enough to freeze anything shut. Door'll work as soon as he opens it from the inside and they fall out."

Lisbon considered that. "Okay then," she said after a moment.

"So, hot chocolate?" Jane asked, holding out a hand to help her up and lead her to his car.

"Why not?" Lisbon said with a grin. "Y'know, if we go to my place, I think I have leftover Christmas cake."

Jane sighed. "Everyone always has leftover Christmas cake, Lisbon. Because almost no one actually _likes_ Christmas cake in the first place."

"Yeah, well," she grumbled. "I felt guilty throwing it all out."

Jane shook his head. "I suppose I could help you eat some of it."

"Excellent," she said with a smile. "Y'know, I guess this wasn't so bad."

Jane smiled back, "I told you Lisbon, my plans almost always work, in the end."

"Sure they do, Jane" Lisbon replied. "Sure they do."

Jane wasn't bothered by her scepticism. Whatever she said about his plans, they worked enough of the time that she tended to go along with them. And that was good enough for him.

As he started his car, he wondered briefly what she'd do if she found out who had really hung the mistletoe in the break room.

And more importantly, what she'd do if he caused a second mistletoe incident, this time in her apartment.

xxx

The end.


End file.
